Brave
by DaystarsMom
Summary: How did Dan Hiri Weller meet Cecilie von Sptizweg? How did they fall in love? Why did he leave? Songfic, but more fic than song. Spoilers for Ep. 47. Oneshot.


**Title:** Brave  
**Author:** DaystarsMom  
**Rating:** T  
**Characters: **Dan Hiri x Celi  
**Summary:** Follows the doomed love between Dan Hiri Weller and Lady Celi von Spitzberg from a possible beginning to nearly the end. Songfic, but more fic than song.  
**Disclaimer:** Good grief, it's fanfiction. Of course it's Not Mine. Do people really need to be told this?

The song is Idina Metzel's "Brave" from the I Stand album, and I don't own it, either. This fic was requested by my lovely and talented beta, SayokoBizen.

Brave

By DaystarsMom

_Don't know just where I'm going  
__And tomorrow is a little overwhelming  
__And the air is cold  
__And I'm not the same anymore_

Dan Hiri Weller was restless.

It wasn't an unusual condition for him. His mother, gods rest her, had always said he'd been born with itchy feet. How she'd scolded whenever he wandered farther than she thought wise! But he'd always wondered about the other side of the hill, or the far side of the forest. Even as a boy, he'd drunk in travelers' tales whenever he got the chance. He was barely grown when he'd taken off to see for himself, despite all her warnings that his curiosity would bring him trouble one day. He smiled, remembering. By her lights, he supposed he'd found trouble aplenty, though never any that he couldn't handle.

But he'd been on the road for a good fifteen years now, hiring his sword to whoever would pay (and occasionally lending it for free, if the reason seemed good, though he didn't speak of that often—it led too many prospective employers to try to lower his wage). He'd lost count of the places he'd been, and they were all starting to look the same.

This tavern, for instance. The lanterns and roofbeams, the trestle tables and benches, the smells of smoke and onions and beer, were the same as in a hundred other taverns he'd seen in countries all over the world. Even the barmaids looked the same, with their aprons and caps and billowing skirts. He frowned, realizing that he couldn't actually remember whether this place was in Big Cimarron, Small Cimarron, or Sevelara.

He took an absent-minded pull at his drink, and smiled. Calorian ale wasn't to everyone's taste, but Dan Hiri had a perverse fondness for it. Hell of a thing, when you had to figure out where you were by what you were drinking. Maybe it was time he found a spot to settle down. His frown returned. In fifteen years, he'd never found a place or person that tempted him to leave his wandering. But what was the point of keeping on, if there was nothing new to see?

A loud voice drifted over from the next table: "…devils, I tell you! Mazoku are all devils. Kill you as soon as look at you, they would."

"I heard they steal human babies to feed their Maoh," another voice said.

"Thas why we kicked 'em out of Caloria," a third man chimed in. "An' good riddance!"

Several people applauded drunkenly. Dan Hiri smiled suddenly. That was one place he'd never been—Shin Makoku, the land of the Demon Tribe. He was surprised it hadn't occurred to him before, what with his family's ancient connection to them. Feeling suddenly more cheerful, he waved the barmaid over and ordered a round for the house and another pitcher for himself. He couldn't really afford it, but what did that matter? He had enough left for passage on the next ship, and once he was in Shin Makoku he was sure he could find someone to hire his sword. Demon or human, it didn't matter to him, as long as they paid.

o--o

_I've been running in your direction  
__For too long now  
__I've lost my own reflection  
__And I can't look down  
__If you're not there to catch me when I fall._

The land of the horrible Demon Tribe was something of a disappointment to Dan Hiri. Oh, the country was pretty enough, but the towns and villages and people were much the same as he'd found anywhere else, apart from the odd hair and eye colors so many Mazoku sported. He'd been there three weeks without seeing any of the terrifying magic everyone said they used so often. About the only real difference between Shin Makoku and the human countries was the way people looked at him askance.

Then, too, finding work had been more difficult than he was used to. Mazoku just didn't seem to believe that a human swordsman could keep up with them. Well, perhaps there would be more opportunity nearer the border.

"Be careful," the cook said as he picked up the journey bread and cheese—all he could afford in the way of provisions—before leaving the town. "They say there are bandits along the main road."

"Sure and it's the bandits had best be careful of me," Dan Hiri replied with a wink. "I'll come back for your cooking, darlin', never fear."

The cook shook her head, but he saw her add a chunk of salt pork to the meager package of provisions before she wrapped it up. He smiled and patted her cheek. Flirting was free, and Mazoku women seemed just as susceptible to his charm as human ones. This wasn't the first time he'd used a joke and some kind words to stretch his money. He didn't forget her advice, though, and he made his way into the woods with more caution than usual. Even the best swordsman could be felled by surprise, and bandits had no honor.

Even so, Dan Hiri was startled when, late in the morning of his second day of travel, he heard shouts and the sound of swords clashing in the woods ahead of him. Drawing his sword, he raced forward. If he could get there before the fighting stopped, perhaps he could be of enough help that whoever had been jumped would consider hiring him at last.

He hadn't gone more than ten yards when someone burst out of the bushes and crashed into him, nearly bowling them both over. "Here now–" Dan Hiri started, and found himself looking down into an enormous pair of green eyes, framed in long, golden curls that rivaled the sunshine for brightness.

o--o

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own  
__If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home  
__I might be afraid  
__But it's my turn to be brave_

"Oh!" said his inadvertent captive in a light, breathy voice. "Oh, no!"

"Don't worry, darlin', I'm not–" Dan Hiri began, just as three scruffy-looking men with drawn swords appeared out of the same clump of bushes.

"Good, you've got her," one of them said, relaxing slightly. "Be careful; these Mazoku are tricky."

Dan Hiri frowned. In one swift move, he swung the Mazoku woman behind him—and didn't she make a cuddlesome armful on the way!—and turned back to the bandits. Raising his sword, he dropped into guard position. "Tis a sorry thing to be contradicting you, gentlemen, but I'm afraid you've made a small mistake here."

"He's not one of us!" the second man said. "Take him down and get her, quick."

Without taking his eyes from the three men, Dan Hiri shook his head in mock sadness. "Easier to say than do, my lads. Let's to it, shall we?"

They rushed him in a group, and Dan Hiri grinned. This was going to be just too easy. He disarmed the first man, caught the second with the backswing, and stepped lightly aside from the third man's charge, tripping him on the way past. But the bushes were parting again, and more bandits poured through. Dan Hiri's eyes narrowed as the men spread out to surround him. _Not so easy as all that, then._

A small hand touched his shoulder lightly. "Behind you, to the left—there's a rock. We can hold them off for a few minutes."

Dan Hiri grinned. Brains as well as beauty; this was his lucky day for certain. "Run for it, on three," he said, and winked. "Three!"

The Mazoku woman darted for the boulder right on cue. In passing, she scooped up the sword he'd torn from the first bandit's hand, and Dan Hiri added "courage" to his mental list, though even if she were the greatest swordswoman in Shin Makoku, she wouldn't be able to fight very well in the tight black skirt she was wearing. He'd barely had time to think as much, when the Mazoku woman slit the skirt nearly to the waistband, exposing long, creamy legs (and, incidentally, giving her far more freedom of movement).

_Later, Dan Hiri; bandits first,_ he thought, and then they had the boulder at their backs. They had a chance now, despite the imbalance in numbers.

The next few minutes were a flurry of clashing blades. Dan Hiri's grin widened as the battle exhilaration took him and bandit after bandit went down before his blade. The blonde Mazoku woman knew how to use a sword for more than ripping seams, he noted with approval. Her technique wasn't flashy, but she was competent enough to account for three of the bandits without help. One of them had been about to drive his sword through Dan Hiri's back.

"Thanks, darlin'," he said, whipping around to block the man who'd tried to take advantage of her distraction.

"Thank you," the Mazoku woman said. Her green eyes sparkled at him, full of promises and speculation, and then they were back-to-back as the bandits surged forward again. Dan Hiri heard shouting from the rear of the bandits—_reinforcements? It's about time her guards got here!_—and then the press of swords lessened. He paused, his sword still in guard position, as uniformed men tore into the remaining bandits from behind.

He caught the movement on his left just a little too late to dodge the arrow. He stared down at the feathers protruding from his chest as his fingers went numb and loosed their hold on his sword. _Damn. They had an archer._

"Stoeffel! Raven!" shrieked a feminine voice as someone caught him and lowered him to the ground. "What do you think you're _doing_?"

"Disposing of the human scum," a deep man's voice replied. "We can't allow–"

"You idiot!" the woman cried. "He saved my life!"

"But Celi, he's a _human_."

"But nothing! He can be a goala for all I care. Get a healer, _now_."

_And damn again_, was Dan Hiri's last conscious thought. _She's married, and her husband hates humans. Not my lucky day after all…_

o--o

_If this is the last chance before we say goodbye  
__At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
__I can't be afraid  
__Cause it's my turn to be brave_

_All along all I ever wanted, was to be the light  
__When your life was daunting  
__But I can't see mine  
__When I feel as though you're pushing me away_

Dan Hiri woke feeling much better than he had any right to. _In fact, why am I waking up at all?_ A wound like the one he'd sustained should have been fatal. Cautiously, he moved his arms. His chest ached a little, and he could tell that he'd be happier if he kept his movements slow and easy for a while, but everything seemed to be working properly. Carefully, he sat up and looked around.

The four-poster bed in which he lay was in the far corner of an enormous room. The walls were made of enormous grey-brown stone blocks. An old tower or manor house, probably; nobody built with stone like that any more, not even Mazoku. Tall, many-paned windows let in the light. His eye snagged on the intricately patterned carpet as his fingers slid over the embroidered silk of the comforter that covered the bed. An old, rich manor house.

The door opened, and a short man with pink hair entered. "Ah, you're awake! Excellent. Lady Celi will wish to be informed at once."

"Before you go–" Dan Hiri said, barely in time to catch him before he nipped out the door again, "–at the risk of sounding like a cliché, where am I?"

The pink-haired man stared at him in disbelief. "Where _are_ you?" he repeated. "Covenant Castle, of course."

"Of course," Dan Hiri said rather faintly as the door closed. Well, he'd wanted to see Mazoku country, and here he was at the heart of it. His lady and her husband must be important indeed. His chances of getting a paying job had probably gone up significantly. He wondered why the thought didn't make him feel more cheerful.

A few minutes later, the door opened again. This time, the pink-haired man was accompanied by the golden-haired Mazoku woman, a square-built blond man with a beard, and a tall, dark-haired man wearing a serious expression whom Dan Hiri immediately classed as "bodyguard." The woman was even more stunningly beautiful than he remembered. Without thinking, he gave her as best a courtly bow as he could manage from a sitting position, and winced when his forgotten injuries twinged.

The pink-haired man frowned and scooted forward. "Sir, you mustn't do that. It will be some time—a week or two at least!—before you're recovered enough move about freely."

"Two weeks?" Dan Hiri said in astonishment.

The man stiffened. "I assure you, it's the best I can do. Without maryoku of your own to contribute to the healing process, it takes much longer."

"I wasn't complaining," Dan Hiri assured him. "Indeed, I'm thinking it's a wonderful thing, to go from near dying to back on my feet in a mere two weeks. You've all my thanks and appreciation."

"It's my duty," the man said, mollified. "But you're welcome."

"More than welcome," the blonde woman said. "You saved my life; it's the least we could do."

"Ah, but I was already in your debt," Dan Hiri replied. "How often does a man have the opportunity of saving a beautiful woman from bandits? Tis a memory I'll treasure always."

"How often is a woman rescued by a handsome swordsman?" the woman countered, smiling warmly, and Dan Hiri's heart turned over. "We're even, I think," she went on. "Will you tell me the name of my rescuer, then? I am Lady Cecilie von Spitzberg, but please, call me Celi."

"Celi!" the bearded man said, frowning. "A woman of your position shouldn't encourage familiarity from a human, even if he did save your life."

"Oh, don't be stuffy," Lady Celi said. "Besides, he's _so_ handsome."

"Not nearly as handsome as you are lovely," Dan Hiri replied, succumbing to the urge to flirt despite her husband's disapproving presence. He was rewarded by a growl from the bearded man, and a tinkling laugh from Lady Celi.

"Do excuse my brother Stoeffel," she said, indicated the disgruntled man beside her. "He's never really approved of me, I'm afraid."

_Brother?_ Dan Hiri couldn't help smiling. "Dan Hiri Weller, at your service," he replied. "Very much at your service, my lady." He started to bow again, but caught himself when his head began to swim.

Lady Celi blushed charmingly as the pink-haired healer moved forward, scolding, to inform everyone that the visit had gone on long enough for a patient still in the early stages of convalescence, and they would all have to leave now. Stoeffel and the bodyguard hurried out of the room with evident relief; Lady Celi blew Dan Hiri a kiss as she followed them out the door.

_I think I'm in love_, Dan Hiri thought as the door closed behind them.

It was two more days before he learned that Lady Cecilie von Sptizberg was the Maoh of Shin Makoku, and by then it was much too late to tell his heart to be wise.

o--o

_Well who's to blame, are we making the right choices  
__Cause we can't be sure if we're hearing our own voices  
__As we close the door even though we are so desperate to stay_

By the time his injuries had healed, Dan Hiri Weller had learned more than he'd ever expected to about Shin Makoku and its Maoh. Some of the discoveries were welcome, like the effectiveness of healing maryoku and the kindness and warm heart hidden behind Lady Celi's bubbly flirtatiousness. Some were less welcome, like the suspicious glares he received from most of the Mazoku, servants included, when he finally ventured from his room, or the fact that his lovely hostess was some three times his age and had a son who was older than Dan Hiri (though he looked and acted like a human in his early teens). Some were…well, he didn't quite know what to call the discovery that he was heels over ears in love with the Maoh, age difference and son notwithstanding. Especially since it left him at a loss for the first time in a very long time.

He'd dealt with the wealthy and titled often enough to know that Lady Celi was far beyond his reach, even if she hadn't been a Mazoku. He shouldn't be thinking of her, not even as a prospective employer—people like him were hired by stewards and guard captains several steps removed from rulers like her. He _certainly _shouldn't be lying awake nights remembering the feel of her in his arms when he'd swung her away from the bandits, or the faint scent of flowers that hung in the air wherever she'd passed. But what could he do, when she made a point of coming to see her invalid savior every day, despite the obvious disapproval of her brother, son, and the various advisors who'd been dragooned into playing chaperone?

Normally, Dan Hiri would have enjoyed flirting with such a lovely woman, particularly one who so clearly understood the game. But he'd never before tried to play the gallant when his heart was involved. _Ironic, that when I finally find the woman I'd stay for, she's the one I can't have_. Not that she'd given him any reason to think she was of a similar mind. Lady Celi flirted with everyone; more than once, he'd watched her charm her disapproving advisors into making a third for a card game (and hadn't he enjoyed beating them all to flinders, the lady herself excepted).

_It's been glorious, but it's time to move on._ So he asked one of the maids if the hospitality of the castle might extend to provisions for the road on the following morning, knowing that word would spread. He could almost feel the collective sigh of relief as the rumors made their way through the castle.

Dan Hiri wasn't expecting Lady Celi to burst into his room late that evening, followed by a trail of protesting advisors. He stared in bemusement as she ordered everyone else out, with such force that not one of them so much as murmured a protest, not even her annoying brother. As the door closed behind the last of the courtiers, she turned and said in a deceptively sweet voice, "Dan Hiri Weller, what do you think you are doing?"

"Until you came, I was reading," Dan Hiri said. "Miss Lasagne got a book on Mazoku sword techniques from the castle library for me, and I thought I'd try to finish it before…"

"Before you leave," Lady Celi finished for him. She looked at him, and then away. "Do you dislike Mazoku so much that you couldn't even say goodbye?"

The hurt in her voice registered first; then the meaning of the words sank in. "I've no particular misliking for Mazoku," Dan Hiri said carefully. "Indeed, it'd be base ingratitude in me, did I claim such a thing after all your folk have done for me."

"Is that all you feel, then?" Lady Celi whispered. "Just gratitude?" She drew a shaky breath, and Dan Hiri thought a lesser woman would have burst into tears.

If she had the courage to ask, he owed her an honest answer. "No," he said. "Not just gratitude."

Celi's head whipped around, setting her golden curls swinging. "What else?" she said, and he could hear the hope and longing in her words.

"Do you know, the first time I saw you, I thought your hair was like sunshine," Dan Hiri said. He reached out and caught one silky curl, letting it run softly across his sword-callused fingers and then reluctantly letting it spring back into place. "I was wrong. It's not your hair that's like sunshine; it's you yourself. My sunshine."

"Dan Hiri." Celi leaned forward, and it took all his self-control to step back out of reach.

"But you're the Maoh of Shin Makoku," Dan Hiri went on. "You can't be taking up with a wandering sword-for-hire. I know that. So I'll be leaving in the morning, and I'll not ask for…anything." He smiled at her, though his heart ached at the dawning realization in her eyes. "I'll not have anyone saying I took advantage of your soft heart."

"No, you wouldn't," Celi said softly. Then her chin came up and she squared her shoulders in sudden determination. "You stay right there for a minute."

To Dan Hiri's surprise, she walked to the door and flung it open. "In here," she said with a peremptory gesture, and the courtiers filed back into the room, looking as puzzled as Dan Hiri felt. "You're an honorable man, Dan Hiri Weller," Celi said. "And you're right about some things, at least. You can't ask me for…anything. So–" She took a deep breath, which did extremely interesting things to her cleavage, and slapped his cheek.

All hell broke loose. Dan Hiri stood staring at her while Stoeffel shouted and the courtiers spluttered and his brain caught up with events enough to remind him of the odd custom Mazoku nobility used to propose marriage…_Marriage?_ His eyes widened. "Do you mean that?"

"If I hadn't meant it, I wouldn't have called all of them in to watch," Celi said with some asperity. "Well?"

Dan Hiri's deep laugh cut through the furious babble. "What do you think, darlin'? You've got yourself a husband."

o--o

_If this is the moment I stand here on my own  
__If this is my rite of passage that somehow leads me home  
__I might be afraid  
__But it's my turn to be brave_

It wasn't that simple, of course.

By the following morning, Dan Hiri had picked up three knives, one of them thrown by Lord Stoeffel von Spitzberg himself. Much as he already disliked the man, Dan Hiri would have refused the duel if he could have; he didn't want Celi to feel she had to choose between them, and killing his future brother-in-law was hardly the best way to start a marriage. Fortunately, the large man was no great swordsman, and Dan Hiri disarmed him without injury to either of them. The second duel had a similar outcome, though his opponent was far more skilled.

The third duelist was more cautious, and Dan Hiri realized that until they'd seen him in action, all of the Mazoku had underestimated his skill with a sword. It didn't matter; the third man went down just as the first two had, though this time Dan Hiri couldn't avoid wounding him. Two more challengers waited outside the dueling circle, knives poised. When he saw the second, Dan Hiri shook his head. "Don't even think of dropping that blade, Gwendal," he said. "I'm not fighting a duel with Celi's son, no matter what you think of me."

"That's Lord von Voltaire to you, human!" Gwendal retorted with all the dark outrage of a thwarted human teenager.

"Gwen! Stop that this minute," Celi said, coming up behind him. "How _could _you?"

Gwendal shrank in on himself and muttered something unintelligible.

"Don't worry, Gwendal," the second man said. "I'll take care of him for you." As he spoke, he tossed his knife at Dan Hiri's feet—actually _at _them, probably hoping to see Dan Hiri skip backward. He was disappointed; he'd telegraphed his move, and Dan Hiri had plenty of time to step casually aside.

"I'm thinking this sort of workout will get old very quickly," Dan Hiri said with a faint sigh as he picked up the knife. "Tomorrow afternoon?"

"The sooner, the better," the man replied confidently. "Tomorrow morning, if you like."

"I'm planning to have a fearsome hangover tomorrow morning," Dan Hiri told him blandly. "The afternoon will have to do." He left the man sputtering and crossed to where Celi was scolding Gwendal in an undertone. "Let be, love," he said, putting his arm around her. "The boy can't help his feelings."

"Don't touch her!" Gwendal said furiously. "Mother, he's a _human_! How can you … How can you … "

"I love him," Celi said seriously, and Dan Hiri's arm tightened involuntarily around her slim waist. She flashed him a quick smile, then looked back at her son. "Love happens when it happens. It's not something you decide. You'll understand one day."

"If this is what love does to people, I'm not falling in love with anybody, ever!" Gwendal retorted, and stalked off.

"Oh, Gwen," Celi sighed, but she made no move to leave the circle of Dan Hiri's arm.

"I doubt he'll ever like me," Dan Hiri said thoughtfully. He looked down into Celi's green eyes. "Love, are you quite sure–"

Slender fingers stopped his lips before he could complete the sentence. "Don't ever ask," Celi said sternly. "They'll all get used to the idea eventually."

Dan Hiri didn't voice his doubts, but as the weeks went on, they seemed more and more justified. There were fewer duels, but only because no one was willing to face the humiliation of being beaten by a "mere human" any longer. The whispers and the angry looks continued. Celi began to look strained, but she only clung more closely to his arm. Dan Hiri cheered her as best he could, but a sword was no defense against words or glares.

And then they received the ultimatum from Stoeffel and the council.

o--o

_If this is the last chance before we say goodbye  
__At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
__I can't be afraid  
__Cause it's my turn to be brave_

"They want to _what_?" Dan Hiri said.

"They want to submit the marriage to Shinou's judgment," Celi whispered.

"Can they do that?" Dan Hiri asked. "You're the Maoh!"

"I am the Maoh by Shinou's will," Celi replied. "If he forbids our marriage, there won't be anything we can do." Her face was a mask of despair; clearly, she thought the decision would be negative.

"Cheer up, sweetheart," Dan Hiri said, putting his arms around her. "It's not so hopeless as you fear. Your Shinou owes the Wellers, and has for a long time. He can just start paying up now."

She didn't believe him, of course. He wasn't sure he believed it himself—after four thousand years, would Shinou even remember the keys to the Forbidden Boxes, let alone recognize Dan Hiri as one of them?—but it was the only hope he had, and he refused to give it up. His arms tightened around the one woman he'd ever wanted for a wife. He refused to give _her_ up. If he had to break with his family tradition and his honor, hunt down the Forbidden Box, and sacrifice his left arm to loose destruction on the world in order to keep her…

Dan Hiri sighed. If it came to that, he wouldn't do it. He thought. But it would be a near thing, and in the end what would keep him from it was the knowledge that his Celi would be more hurt than anyone else, if he abandoned his honor for her love. For all her talk of love being more important than anything, she believed just as strongly in honor and duty. As did he, though he seldom made a show of it.

_At least we can make the most of what time we have,_ he thought, tilting Celi's head up for a kiss.

He was as astonished as anyone else when word came from the temple that the marriage was not only allowed, but had Shinou's express blessing, and anyone who objected should take it up with him.

That put an abrupt end to the overt opposition, if not the whispers. The wild, impromptu celebration Dan Hiri held when they learned the news made him a few reluctant friends among the nobility (and far more among the servants), and started a round of new rumors, mostly involving the phenomenal capacity for imbibing that had been demonstrated by the Maoh's new consort. It was, Dan Hiri thought, an improvement of sorts.

The wedding was both elaborate and quiet, an interesting study in contrasts. Celi staged the event with all the pageantry and passion of a major festival, though the only guests were her disapproving family and the very few Mazoku who were both well-disposed toward the couple and willing to admit to being so in public. Dan Hiri didn't care. He was barely aware of anything besides the impossible fact that Celi looked even more stunningly beautiful in white than she did in black.

Gradually, most of the Mazoku court settled into a resigned acceptance of the marriage. There was a brief flurry of antagonism when Dan Hiri's son was born, but the memory of his prowess with the sword was still fresh, and no one dared anything more than a few dark looks. Dan Hiri paid them no attention. He was too absorbed in the wonder of Conrart's tiny fists and enormous baby brown eyes. And the years flowed smoothly on.

Too smoothly.

o--o

_And I might still cry  
__And I might still bleed  
__These thorns in my side  
__This heart on my sleeve_

Some years later, Dan Hiri stood at an upper window of the summer palace, a bottle of wine in one hand. In the yard below, his wife and son were playing some Mazoku children's game. His fingers tightened on the neck of the bottle, and he took another swig because it was that or smash the bottle against the wall, and it would never do to make the servants talk.

_Who am I, any more?_

He could tick off answers on his fingers: the Maoh's consort, the lone human at the court of Shin Makoku, a great swordsman, Conrart's father, Celi's love. But the Maoh's human consort had no function, and he was still tolerated at court only because Shinou himself had approved this match. And no matter how many duels he'd won, Shin Makoku had no use for a swordsman whose skill was measured by the standards of a human lifetime, much less one who was accustomed to working on his own ... and it wasn't as if he could take a decade or two to learn the ways of the Mazoku army, even if they'd been willing to let him.

Conrart's father, Celi's love — those were the only things left that meant anything. But he couldn't spend all day in bed with his wife, or playing with his son. A man needed more purpose than that in life. Even these Mazoku knew as much; the only real difference was that they could make plans and begin projects that would take a hundred years to complete, or two hundred, and still expect to see their work come to fruition. While he, Dan Hiri Weller, would not even live long enough to see his son grow to manhood. The boy was twelve now, but he looked and acted like a human child half his age. In forty years, he'd barely be into his teens, by human reckoning, and Dan Hiri would be an old, old man.

Dan Hiri turned away from the window and finished off the bottle. This wine was weak; someone must have watered it. Maybe he would slip out later and find a tavern where they'd have a more potent vintage, something that would burn away doubt and fear and memory and longing. If he did, Celi would cry, but he would make it up to her later. He needed something strong, she should understand that, and he certainly wasn't going to find it here at the palace.

The casual thought echoed and reechoed in his mind. _He wasn't going to find what he needed here._ Dan Hiri shook his head. The drink could give a man peculiar notions sometimes. He glanced down at the courtyard once more, just in time to catch Celi looking up. She waved and smiled, and his dark mood vanished. He set the bottle on a table and went down to join the two people who meant most to him in all the world.

But the thought returned at odd moments over the next few days, or perhaps weeks—he wasn't sure how much time had passed. It was easy to lose track; the Mazoku sense of time was so different, and things changed so slowly.

And that was the problem, wasn't it?

He'd been living on Mazoku time, as far as anyone human could, for twelve … no, thirteen years now. The pace of his life, his deeds, his achievements (or attempts at them) had slowed to a crawl. His body, however, had not. He could feel the passage of time in his muscles and bones. It was nothing serious yet—a little more effort needed to make a tricky pass with his sword, a little more time needed to recover from a night of drinking. The trouble was that his wife and the full-blooded Mazoku around him hadn't changed at all. Even young Gwendal, who was still growing fast by Mazoku standards, seemed very little taller or older—or less grumpy—than he had when Dan Hiri first married his mother.

_I can't live like this. No human can._

But what alternative did he have?

The obvious answer presented itself as soon as he posed the question.

_I can leave._

He flinched away from the idea, knowing even as he did that it was this recognition he'd been trying to avoid. Because he didn't want to go. Celi—Conrart—even his perpetually scowling stepson Gwendal—were dearer to him than he had ever dreamed anyone could be. Leaving them would be like tearing his heart out. But if he stayed… If he stayed, his soul would wither and dwindle long before his body did, and the people he loved would have to watch it happen. Celi was already giving him worried looks when she thought he wouldn't notice. He couldn't do that to them.

He agonized over the choice for weeks, though he knew in his heart that it really was no choice. Admitting that to himself took longer than it should have. Then came the really hard part.

Telling Celi.

o--o

_And lightening may strike  
__This ground at my feet  
__And I might still crash  
__But I still believe_

It took every ounce of courage Dan Hiri had to face his wife and tell her that he was going back to the road. She neither wept nor pleaded, only looked at him and nodded with a quiet despair that broke his heart all over again. "If I could stay, I–"

Her fingers touched his lips, silencing him. "Don't," she said. "It doesn't help."

He looked at her helplessly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I." Celi bit her lip. "I think—I think I've been afraid of this for a long time." She gave him a wavering smile. "I knew our time together would be short, but … but I'd thought … I'd hoped … "

Dan Hiri reached out and took her in his arms. "My sunshine," he murmured, stroking her golden curls. He wanted to tell her that he loved her still, that he would never love another as he loved her, but how could he say such things and then walk away from her? It would be too cruel.

For a long moment, they clung to each other with the same desperation they'd felt thirteen years before, when they'd been sure that the Mazoku court had found a way to part them at last. But Shinou had decided in their favor. Dan Hiri wondered what Shinou would tell them now. He had a fair idea what the rest of the Mazoku were going to say.

Finally, Celi pulled away. "At least it's not me," she whispered. But her voice shook slightly, and he could hear the doubt behind the brave words.

"It's always you," Dan Hiri said, abandoning the resolution he'd made bare moments before. "It will always be you I see in the sunshine, you I think of by moonlight and starshine, and your name I whisper to the breeze. Always."

She sighed, but the corners of her mouth lifted in a sad little smile. "If I could come with you, I would. But Conrart is too young yet, and–"

"You're the Maoh," he said, stunned that she would even think of doing such a thing. "You can't be giving up your life to come with me. I know that."

"You gave up yours to be with me," she said softly. "I think–No. Just hold me for a while."

He held her until the setting sun stretched their combined shadows into one long, indistinguishable ribbon and the air began to chill. And did his best not to think of anything at all.

o--o

_This is the moment I stand here all alone  
__With everything I have inside, everything I own  
__I might be afraid  
__But it's my turn to be brave_

A week later, Dan Hiri spent most of a too-short night making love to his wife for the last time. He left before the sun rose, without any announcement or fanfare. He took as little as he had brought with him—one horse, a spare tunic and cloak, a blanket, his sword. Even after so many years, he didn't want to give anyone reason to claim he'd married the Maoh for what he could get out of her. Still, he was taking far more with him than any of his detractors would ever have believed or understood, but memories, however precious, were invisible and took no space in a saddlebag.

A dozen times, fifty, a hundred, he almost turned and went back. What kept him on his chosen road were the very memories that tugged at him. Because Celi had understood. However much she had wept, she had never once asked him to stay. He couldn't throw that brave sacrifice back in her face. And Conrart—he couldn't show himself a coward before his son, even if the boy was still too young to understand. Even a half-Mazoku child wouldn't be young forever.

In those early months, he was not a merry drunk, though he drank as often as he ever had.

At first, Dan Hiri stayed in the purely human territories, far from Shin Makoku. He was surprised how long it took him to adjust to the speed of a human lifetime, to become accustomed to making important decisions in hours or days instead of after months or years of consideration. He was even more surprised at how much his reputation had faded in the thirteen years he'd spent in Shin Makoku. He'd been well enough known before he left the road and a wandering swordsman's life that he'd seldom had difficulty finding work, but when he returned, he had to prove himself time and again to prospective employers. Not that the proof was hard to give… Still, it bothered him that his name and reputation had been so quickly forgotten.

The one indulgence he permitted himself were the letters he wrote, pouring out his frustration and longing, his fears and dreams. Most of those letters, he sent by way of his campfire, but now and then a hint would creep into the more formal ones he actually sent to his wife—his former wife, he reminded himself. Her answers were few and far between, but that was only to be expected. Time flowed differently for Mazoku, and her duties as Maoh must keep her busy. Then too, there would be many at court who'd frown on her continued contact with him.

Which was why he was so startled to receive a letter on thick, creamy paper, sealed with black wax—an official letter from the Maoh.

He was even more startled by its contents. _Our son Conrart is old enough now to travel, and he needs to know his father. If you are willing to have him with you, come._

Dan Hiri stared at the letter, unspeakable touched by the fact that Celi had called him "_our _son." But had it really been long enough? For a human, yes, but for a half-Mazoku child... He added up the time mentally, and found to his surprise that human years could pass as quickly as Mazoku ones. And then the decision was obvious, and for the first time in years, Dan Hiri turned his horse toward Shin Makoku.

o--o

_If this is the last time before we say goodbye  
__At least it's the first day of the rest of my life  
__I can't be afraid  
__Cause it's my turn to be brave._

The summer palace looked exactly the same as in his fading memories. The sudden ache in his heart surprised him, though it shouldn't have. _It's all still here, waiting for me. I could come back_– He pushed the thought aside. He knew better.

A solemn, intense child with brown hair and eyes met him in the courtyard. He looked about eleven; it was a moment before Dan Hiri realized that this was the happy, bright-eyed toddler he'd left behind all those years ago. "Conrart."

"Father." The boy's tone was wary, but not hostile.

Well, he couldn't be blamed for that. No doubt there had been plenty of Mazoku willing to tell him how his father had played fast and loose with his mother. Dan Hiri winced inwardly at the thought, but he kept his voice level. "Has ... your mother told you why I'm here?"

"You want to take me with you."

"If you're willing to come," Dan Hiri said, and the boy's eyes widened briefly. "I won't take you away if you don't wish to go. It's your choice."

"Thank you, Father," the boy said after a moment. "May I think about it for a while?"

"Of course," Dan Hiri replied. As he watched his son lead his horse toward the stables, he sensed someone come up behind him. He knew without turning who it was.

"You've always been such a good father," the soft, breathy voice said. "I'm so glad you came."

Steeling himself, he turned. Celi was as golden and lovely as ever, and he had to take a deep breath and then another to suppress the heat that surged through his body at the sight of her. Involuntarily, his eyes rose to meet hers, and he saw in them the same love and longing—and loss— that he felt himself.

_This is how it is,_ he thought, _how it must be._ She'd known, he realized. She'd known just how hard it would be for them to meet again—harder for her, for whom time moved so much more slowly. And she'd known he would be leaving again in a matter of days, and taking her youngest son away with him for months or perhaps years. And still, she'd summoned him, for the good of their son. He'd known since that first unlikely meeting in the forest that she had courage, but not until this instant had he truly known just how much. He wouldn't make this any harder for her by stirring up might-have-beens, not if he could help it.

"Celi," he said, and smiled. He took her hand, and bent to kiss it. "You're even more beautiful than I remembered. But then, my memory has never been good."

"Dan Hiri!" Celi looked torn between outrage and laughter, as he'd intended.

They walked slowly toward the palace, not touching, making light conversation about Conrart's studies and the things he'd need to journey with Dan Hiri. To all appearances, they met as old friends...but Dan Hiri could feel the tension in her. Once he left with Conrart, he wouldn't come again until he was an old man, he decided. Until time had turned him into someone else, someone whom Celi could meet as an old, familiar friend and nothing more. And if her beauty remained unchanged, as he knew it would, and if even then it still stirred the undying embers of his love for her, he wouldn't disturb her hard-won peace of mind by showing it. She'd been strong enough; it was time for him to do his part.

_It's my turn to be brave._

_-End-_


End file.
